


Journey

by Findarato



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Banter, M/M, Reunions, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 10:17:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13051998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Findarato/pseuds/Findarato
Summary: It's not home, he repeats to himself. It's just four walls with a bed and too many books, and one man and a mouse.





	Journey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dancinbutterfly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancinbutterfly/gifts).



> I've always wanted to write Reunion fic, so this request lent itself well to that. This one is a mixture of anime/manga and novel canon, being that I'm more familiar with the novel.
> 
> Enjoy!

**-Journey-**

"You're awake!"

Why do people say that? Yes, Nezumi aware of his own consciousness. He's aware of that before he was told this very obvious fact. Maybe next time he should announce it himself.

…actually, where was his mind even going. He blinks, slowly focusing on the ceiling, white and medical. There's an IV, silver and shiny, linked to his arm. Some flowers, streaks of red, blue, and orange, sitting in the world's ugliest vase. And Shion, white and purple and red and in a sweater that looks like it's from the wrong century. He tries to speak, but the words are too thick, choking in his throat and all he manages to rasp out is the first syllable for "Shion." This is too impromptu, even for him.

"Hang on." Shion reaches over to a cup that Nezumi hadn't spotted at first. Ice clatters, and he finds himself craning his neck until the cold touches him, slipping smoothly against his tongue and then coating his throat. He finds his words again.

"Shion," he tries again. "How many days?" There's other questions, but first things are first.

"Four days. You had a bad infection." Shion hands him another ice chip. "Did you know that your blood type is AB?"

He did know that, actually. "I don't remember how I got here."

"You somehow got in without getting spotted by any of the surveillance cameras, so I'm not exactly sure of how you managed it. But later you were wandering by the old parts of the Lost Town—they called for me because the only thing they could get out of you was my name."

"So I was delirious."

"Quite."

"Did I say anything else?" He wriggles his toes, relieved that he's not paralysed or anything like that.

Shion's face suddenly shutters, and he wonders when that was learned. "Maybe."

"You won't tell me?"

"I'll tell you later. You should rest." Shion sets the cup down a little too carefully. "I'll come see you again."

Dismissal sends a flash of something hot through his chest. "You're not even going to say hello, I see." This is far from his usual wit, but he's not in the mood or condition for wordplay.

"Good night, Nezumi." The red line across Shion's throat shifts when he swallows, the only sign that he's not as calm as he's appearing. "And welcome back."

_Welcome back. Is that all I get after six years of being away?_

Maybe there's drugs in the IV, because he falls asleep soon after, disgruntled and a frown creasing a dent between his eyebrows.

**.**

His memory partially comes back to him, in bits and pieces. Some outbreak in one of the places he passed through; he thought himself more immune, but maybe it had been the food or the water. Either way, he remembers at least two nights of misery, the rest still a blur. He can now vaguely recall reaching the area that was once the Western Block; there had been a few dogs roaming, sniffing curiously at him until he waved them away and dragged himself through somewhere dark. Sewers? An old gate? Some forgotten alley? Somehow, he had made it, and that's all he can remember after three days in the hospital ward.

Shion visits, twice a day. He brings pastries once, muffins twice, and cookies the other times he drops in. He brings a mouse every time, a small, white one with red eyes. Likely a lab experiment. But Snow—Shion proves himself still terrible with names—is lively, restless and jumping the instant he's allowed out of a pocket or bag. He responds to his name, as well as scratches behind his left ear.

Nezumi sees Shion smile when this action is repeated. A smile that is very much the same as the one he saw six years ago, and even earlier before that. A smile that is no longer directed at him.

Maybe he's jealous of a mouse. Maybe not. Snow chewed on his hair when they first met, but finally settled on curling on Nezumi's arm with each visit. If a mouse could purr, he's sure that Snow would.

They don't talk about their promise. Not yet, anyway.

_"_ _What do you do these days?"_

_"_ _A little of everything." Shion sipped his tea (jasmine) before answering. "Wherever I'm needed. Last Sunda,y I was fishing in a creek, and the week before I was putting in new windows for someone. And in between that, I have an office. I also sometimes teach."_

_"_ _And a suit? Please don't tell me you wear that around other people." Where on earth does Shion even currently get his clothes. Today he has on a plaid shirt that was more blocks than stripes of colours. Hideous._

_"_ _What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"_

_"_ _It's awful. It looks like something a jester would wear."_

_"_ _I don't think you can talk. You came back here in a ripped up shirt and no change of clothes except underwear."_

_He sat up. "You looked through my things?"_

_"_ _I was…well, I was curious. It's not like you had anything to hide!"_

_"_ _What if I did?"_

_Shion raises his chin. "I would keep your secrets."_

_"_ _That's not the point. Just—" He breaks off. "Never mind. When can I leave?"_

_"_ _Once you can walk the circumference of this room."_

_"_ _I can do that now."_

_"_ _Are you sure?"_

_He swings his feet over the side of the bed, toes curling against the cold. He manages to stand for all of fifteen seconds before he has to sit down. "Tomorrow."_

_It's like they never mentioned how Shion went through Nezumi's things._

A week later, Nezumi can manage to walk to the window and sit next to it. It's not much a view, just more buildings with some trees to break it up. The trees themselves are still small, and he almost wishes humans aged like them. Trees went beyond more than one person's lifetime, and they'll probably be the only ones left when humanity has at last died out. Humans should've evolved more to become like plants. What is intelligence if you didn't have a lifespan to keep it going?

He has better things than musing about trees and humans, of course. In his belongings, there is a notebook among them. Shion asks about this.

_"_ _I thought you went through all my stuff."_

_"_ _Just a quick look! I didn't read it. Is it a diary?"_

_"_ _No." The apple he was eating was a sour one; he finally finished it with a grimace and gave the core to Snow. "It's…a story." About him, about No.6, and about Shion. Not that Shion needed to know all of this._

_"_ _I didn't know you were a writer."_

_"_ _There's a still a lot of things you don't know about me."_

_"_ _Yes, that's true."_

_Nezumi was ready for the usual barrage, but Shion merely looked away, down at his hands._

_He sighed. "Your communication skills are still terrible."_

_"_ _Are they, if I'm a spokesperson now?"_

_"_ _Being a spokesperson has nothing to do with elegance," Nezumi said this pointedly._

_"_ _Are you saying you're elegant? You're in hospital clothes, and you need a bath."_

_Don't remind him, Shion. "Hey, if you'd let me out, I would gladly take a bath." He bit down on the words, trying not to think about the state of his hair. "Or maybe not, I'll just leave on my own."_

_"_ _You can do that."_

_"_ _Not stopping me?"_

_Shion shrugged. "I've realised it's impossible to stop you sometimes. And that I can't confine you."_

_"_ _Would you say that if I took twenty years to visit? What about forty?"_

_"_ _I said I would wait."_

_"_ _What if you didn't see me until you were dying?"_

_"_ _I don't believe that."_

_"_ _Why not?"_

_"_ _Because you made a vow to me, and the Nezumi I know would keep it."_

_"_ _People change. You changed."_

_"_ _I'm not saying you didn't change!" Shion stood abruptly. Snow disappeared somewhere in the blankets, and Nezumi felt as if he should be standing as well. "But you're not the kind of person to forget promises. The fact that you're here…doesn't that mean you're fulfilling it?"_

_"_ _I'm visiting."_

_"_ _Just visiting." The words were repeated._

_"_ _Yes. I'm here to make sure this place didn't go back to how it was. I'm here to make sure you're alive and checking if you're still living with your head in the clouds. That's all." That, of course, wasn't all._

_"_ _What about—never mind."_

_"_ _Never mind what?"_

_"_ _Nothing, Nezumi." Shion smiled, the shape of it strained. "You can leave tomorrow…your old place is still around. I've kept it as it is."_

_"_ _Why?"_

_"_ _Because it's yours. It's your home."_

_'_ _I don't have a home. Not anymore,' he nearly says. That wasn't his home, that was merely a place to stay, a place where he kept his things. But he had to leave it all behind, for six years. "Did you lock it up?"_

_Shion reached into his pocket, and Nezumi wondered if he's been holding on those keys all this time. Their hands touch, and it's the first time, he realised, that they've had physical contact._

_"_ _I'll come by in a few days."_

_And then the contact was gone._

_That was the first night Snow stayed with Nezumi, too, curled up on his pillow. Nezumi had also forgotten that, after Hamlet and Cravat had passed four years ago._

In any case, he's had enough of this hospital the same view. Shion was thoughtful enough to leave him clothes; a little large, but they don't look frumpy (thank goodness there wasn't a cardigan). Keys in hand, Snow on his shoulder, and bag at his side, he leaves, walking slower than normal. The air here is definitely less sterile, and now that he can think straight, he can observe the people.

Some ways, it hasn't changed. The streets are streets, and shops are shops. There are still unsavoury-looking people, pretentious chin-lifting people, happy children, unhappy parents, and so forth. Definitely less security and less cameras. No one really looks at him, either.

He still can't see himself living in this sort of environment.

When the pavement and concrete gives away to dirt and grass, he finally lets out his breath and stops for a break. It's not the technology; he is familiar with it, having built robots and tinkered with other things. It's not the people, blissful and unaware of the deep things of the world. It's simply not where he belongs.

The underground place that he used to stay in is still there, hidden away and looking unused. He notes the new locks, fumbling with the keys until they give. Inside, it's mostly the same, but dustier. There's a surprising lack of cobwebs, so maybe Shion's actually cleaned occasionally. The books are stacked neatly, and there's a box on the table. Upon opening it, there's food, water, a radio, and a note saying that electricity is turned on for as long as he wants to stay.

Shion's handwriting hasn't changed.

Nezumi sits down on the bed—and sneezes. The walls close in on him, but he's never been afraid of tight spaces. It wraps about him and his lungs, and he lets himself fall backwards. Snow scampers out of the way, chittering complaints at his movement, but eventually settles on the pillow.

It's not home, he repeats to himself. It's just four walls with a bed and too many books, and one man and a mouse.

**.**

Three days pass.

He sits outside during the day with the radio next to him, alternating between writing and reading. Snow takes to his voice much like his own mice had, and he indulges himself in the nostalgia of all the books.

During the night, he tries to view the stars, but it's been cloudy and he's always had to give up early. He makes food, recharges the radio, and sleeps.

Shion finally visits; he calls Nezumi first on the radio and shows up an hour later, a dog at his side. Guess Inukashi was still around, too.

"Is he your bodyguard?" he asks, reaching his hand out for the dog to sniff.

"Actually, I'm training him."

"Really?" Satisfied, the dog sits down, tail still wagging.

"He's not allowed in hospitals yet." Shion pets the dog, stroking under his chin. "But here, he's allowed."

"It's got something to do with Inukashi, doesn't it."

"Yeah, but not the way you think."

"What's the training even for?"

"Companionship."

"So some weird buddy system?"

Shion shakes his head at first, and then raises his hand. "If you have to put it that way. Humans get lonely, and we've found with dogs, they're happier. So now Inukashi and his team work with that. Companionship in different ways."

"Humans shouldn't be coddled."

"No, but they still deserve to be understood."

"Not everyone is as patient as you," Nezumi says, folding his arms.

"And not everyone is as intelligent as you," Shion shoots back, though his actions remain placid, as he takes the leash off the dog. "Or as self-sufficient."

"And what are you?"

"I don't know." Quietly. "I'm not sure I can live like you, unless I really tried."

"No one can live like me."

"That's not true—I'm sure—"

"It's fine. I'm fine." Nezumi remembers he has water heated. "Tea or coffee?"

"Coffee."

Even the mugs are the same. His has the same chip that he always finds with his left thumb, digging his nail there. The table has gotten smaller, though; their knees bump each time they move.

The day was horribly long.

**.**

The next morning is hot; he enjoys it because he's not saturated in a scientifically engineered atmosphere. They agreed to share a bed—but not blankets. He's even surprised that he slept this well. Sweat forms on his neck and Shion pulls out a fan somewhere, a rusty, creaking thing, but the flow of air works.

In the evening, he takes the opportunity to finally look at Shion, properly. His hair is shorter, neater in the back; a stray strand dips forward. The scar is still vivid, wrapping his neck and disappearing into his collar. His hands look more slender, and Nezumi remembers calluses when he got his keys. He's still shorter, which Nezumi is strangely relieved about. His face is much the same, but with more prominent cheekbones; the jawline is still the same. He does not look like the man Nezumi met years ago, and the look in his eyes is still dreamy when he's not focused.

"Are you staring at me?" Shion looks up from his book, tilting his head.

"I'm making an observation." The tea stings his tongue.

"Are you willing to share it?"

"Depends on whether you really want it, or if it's just to satisfy your curiosity."

Shion sighs, and he stops petting the dog that had its chin on his knee. "Nezumi."

"What?"

"I want to speak honestly to you. Will you let me?"

Really. "Then do so—Your Majesty." He's not sure how to feel about the cringe that passes through him as he says this. "I'll even wait until you're all done."

Shion is taken aback, but says nothing about the nickname, merely fumbling with his mug and setting it down. His fingers are shaking. "Nezumi," he says, and his name sounds ominous. "I've waited. Every day I was out on surveillance, hoping I'd be the first to see you."

He's not surprised.

"When Tsukiyo was dying, I wanted to send a message to you. Up until the time he passed, I was sending as many messages as I could to other people, asking about you. I asked about Eve, Mao people, singers—everything. It was like you disappeared with the wind."

 _Gone with the Wind_ was the title of a book, and a poor one at that. The mention of Tsukiyo brings up Cravat and Hamlet, and he tries not to think about when he buried them.

"Two years ago, I finally had news about you. My father, he—" Shion grimaces. "He showed up. He mentioned meeting someone who was strangely beautiful. I asked for a name but didn't get anything, but I knew it was you."

Well, he's not surprised.

"He left after a few days. No one believed his story. When he left, he told me that I was bright that he was impressed, but that I would change." A soft laugh. "He doesn't understand."

Nezumi still remembers what that man had said—something about people at the top need to change, or else they'd be destroyed. Absently, he feeds Snow the last of his cookie.

"Other than that, nothing. You didn't send a letter, a message, and I wondered if you forgot or if you died. Or if you changed and you didn't care. But that's all right—you don't need me. You're the kind of person who's meant to be free. I kept telling myself that."

Is this supposed to make him feel guilty?

Shion clenches his fingers together, knuckles straining. "I stopped looking last year. Things got busy, and a year ago, we turned out the last of the radicals. They were manipulating the news and hacking our systems, so we voted and finally got rid of them. I didn't think about you at all that time."

Once again, this boy—no, man—was being too open. Nezumi squirms in his seat.

"Or so I thought. I tried. I…well, I did a lot of things to forget. Making choices when we were sixteen and making choices now are different. You were my first in a lot of ways, and I held you to that." Shion stops to breathe. "So I told myself I couldn't anymore. I stopped coming here."

He fixes his gaze on the table, on the grain of the wood.

"I wasn't expecting you at all, much less receive a call from the patrol. Did you know you tried to put up a fight? I got your knife back, which was why I opened your backpack in the first place."

That did explain some things.

Shion starts pacing. "And you showed up…like that. It scared me. Everything about the first four days when you were back, they scared me. I thought you wouldn't make it."

He hates pacing. Fidgeting is fine, but pacing makes him feel like he has to keep moving his line of sight and it's irritating.

"I was angry."

Mh-hm.

"You talked a little when you were sick. You were holding conversations with people, arguing with them. Listening to you was almost…I couldn't believe it. You were here again. And then you mentioned me."

Setting his mouth in a line, he sighs because of _course_ he betrays his ownfeelings. Everything happening now feels like a real cliché, a plot no one would come to watch.

"You said a lot of things. I'm used to that, of course." Mercifully, Shion stops pacing. "Except just one thing."

Here it comes…

"You said that I was the only kind of person that you could consider having around, even after so many years. That you couldn't get me out of your mind. That it was my fault, for why you were back, but that…it wasn't a bad thing."

Of all the things to make Shion blush, this is it? Go figure.

"I don't know if you meant that or who you were telling this, but I tried to ask you if you really wanted to see me—"

Nezumi can only stay silent for so long. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say."

"So you said then." And yet this doesn't make Shion cry. Maybe he's past the crying stage of his life, finally. "And I think you finally recognised me, too."

He still can't remember, but Shion doesn't have to know just how badly his mind was scrambled eggs during his sickness. Thank goodness he's good at masking feelings. "Surprise, surprise."

"You asked me if I wanted a greeting kiss."

Oh. Is this what it's about. "I suppose you didn't take advantage of that." Maybe it's time for a change of topic. He looks for Snow, and finds the mouse has retreated to the bed. Unhelpful. The dog too, has moved away. They know when humans are arguing.

"Of course not. You were ill."

"Well, do you want one now?"

Finally, he gets to see Shion a little more out of league, more like the old Shion. Flustered, agitated, and struggling for words. "Maybe later."

He can't tell if that's restraint or fear, or whatever else is going on in the cloud-filled head. "So…was that it?"

"Was what it?"

"Why we didn't have a real conversation until now."

"Um. We've had several conversations. I told you everything? We even argued once!" The self-conscious Shion is gone just like that.

"But not what you just told me."

"Well, I'm not as good with words as you are, Nezumi. It took me time. Plus at the hospital you said you were just visiting."

Shit, he did.

"You still don't remember what you said to me when you were feverish, were you."

Fuck.

"So what's real, Nezumi?" Shion suddenly leans over, and Nezumi begrudgingly leans back. Maybe he did forget—Shion can be quite demanding at times. "What's the truth?"

This would be the perfect time to quote something. This is where people smile and say something sappy. Scenarios dance in his mind, and he just has to choose one.

"Shion." He lingers on the name. Aster. "I wanted to see you. Why else do you think I was anywhere _near_ this damn city?" This will never be his city.

"Just to visit?"

"Of course not. I just said that…because I was angry too? Look," he gently pushes Shion away. "I've had six years to sort out my feelings, and you have as well. We both know we're different."

"Yes, but—"

His hand goes up. "My turn." Shion nods, and he continues. "Kids say stupid things, and teens are even stupider. I thought I was hot stuff and you were too curious for your own good. We made a good team, saving your precious city, but this is just one city. One out of many. I've been everywhere else and seen so much."

No.1 through 5, and then unnamed villages and towns. The other wanderers. And himself. "What I'm saying is, I'm fulfilling a promise I made when we were young, but not the way you think. You're grown." For the better. "I think the promise can change, so I've been meaning to ask you something."

"What?" Shion's breathing, already tight, loses its rhythm.

"Come with me."

"What?"

He loves that he can still shock. He has the best surprises. "I mean it. Have you ever stepped out of here?"

"No, but…"

"You're already a jack of all trades."

"They need me."

"Not that much, if they can spare you to be everywhere. Also, you're not that busy."

"Not busy? I'm—"

"You keep visiting me, and it's never for a set amount of him. That's not being busy."

Seems like they both have things they have to come clean with. Shion sits back down, the chair creaking under the movement.

"I can't, Nezumi. My mother—Shionn, Inukashi…I can't leave them."

"Send a postcard."

"Like you?"

"Is this about me never sending a letter?"

"You could've but you didn't."

"I couldn't sometimes, actually."

"Well, why didn't you when you _could?_ "

"Have I ever been the sort to keep up correspondences?" That's a poor excuse and he knows it, but it stands. He writes but doesn't think in mail or messages. The last time he left notes was when he took Shion to the West Block and he was reassuring Shion's mother. "But I know you will. So what do you think about that idea?"

"I…" Shion struggles, and Nezumi plainly reads the emotions across that face: eagerness, fear, uncertainty, desire. "Let me think about it. I'll be here a few more days. I can't leave right now."

"Why not?"

"It's raining."

He feels his mouth open. "Since when did _rain_ start bothering you?"

"There's going to be a hurricane."

Ah.

He could laugh about the timing. Of course there'd be a hurricane. Of course he'd be with Shion when it hits. "Nicely done. Fine. Give me an answer once the sun comes back out."

Shion's face breaks into relief. "I'll…go make dinner."

Actually, there's no dinner to be made; Nezumi already did it. But he amuses himself by watching Shion trip over his own feet, trying to find the rations and the pot. They just had lunch, Shion.

**.**

He wakes up to the sound of the place shaking and water dripping.

Next to him, Shion stirs and rolls over. "No windows."

"No windows?"

"It's safe."

Another gust of wind rattles the place, and Snow curls up more tightly against the nape of his neck. "As long as this doesn't become our grave." As soon as he says those words, he regrets them. Six years is a long time, but certain trauma can remain as fresh.

"I'll radio in if we're in danger. But this is just a category three."

Nezumi nudges him. "Three? That's still serious."

"This place has sustained worse."

 _Plink, plink_. All right, he's getting up; if his books got damaged that was the end. "Don't jinx us."

"Us…" Shion blinks at him, a smile slowly curling. "I like that."

_You say it like I never left._

He tries to fall back asleep, but he's distracted by looking at Shion, eyes closed and breathing deeply. Tranquil.

**.**

He fixes the leaks. The electricity goes out that first day of the hurricane, but neither of them are bothered. There's plenty of lanterns and batteries, and they both eat canned goods. Shion's kept the place well-stocked, because the rations in the box have run out. This place would be good for holding out in, if something after happened.

However, he's restless. Even when he lived here, he would spend only half the nights inside. The walls, they were the same every day. Nezumi likes places. He likes changes.

But he questions himself as he watches Shion. After that talk, it's like a kind of tension released. Six-years-later Shion asks less questions, choosing to make observations first. Six-years-later Shion smiles less, but Nezumi finds himself chasing it. Six-years-later Shion has matured, not only in look, but in everything else. He's nice but sharp rolled into one, and even has learned to react to Nezumi.

Maybe he could use one unchanging thing in his life.

His mind also, damn him, keeps going back to what Shion told him transpired when he was delirious.

_'_ _Do you want a greeting kiss?'_

Shion had chapped lips, he remembers. Were they still like that?

The opportunity finally presents itself when Shion, listening to the hurricane, decides it's died down enough that he can open the door.

"You're as insane as ever," Nezumi grouses. "Do you do this every hurricane? What does your mother say?"

"I haven't!" Shion tries to look indignant, and fails. "Not since back then. But now that you're here…"

Nezumi can almost hear the question: _please_? He close the book, and pats Snow on the head. "Stay." This is also directed at the dog.

Snow turns his head, and the dog lets out a snort. Hah, if animals could rolls their eyes and speak, they would be saying 'go right ahead, we're not risking our necks in _that_.'

He still can't believe that he's doing this. Raindrops hit his face and drag at his hair when he steps out. He sees Shion, sweaterless and barefoot, head tipped back. "You're insane," he repeats, shouting over the wind. "Utterly." He has his shoes on.

"Good!" Shion raises his arms, closing his eyes. "Because that means you are, too."

"Really?"

"You're here, aren't you?"

 _Touché, Your Majesty._ He sighs, the strength in his lungs feeling like he'll be getting dragged away. If he listens closely enough, he can make out the voice of the wind. The Mao people probably had a song for storms, too. There had been so much to learn, but so little time. But even with inexperience, he can tell—he belongs in nature, and this isn't anger.

This is excitement. Nezumi decides to relish in it, water drenching his clothes and hair. Next to him, Shion suddenly grabs his hand.

"Finally scared?"

"Not of this," Shion shouts back, "I don't want to be separated."

Of all the things to be worried about… Nezumi shakes his head, but he grips back, nothing how Shion's always had firm hands. Even if they trembled, they were strong. The fingers against his, they tightened, and he realises he has to make a choice.

"Hey, Shion?" He yells the name, and inhales heavily.

"Yes?"

He pulls his hand away, so that he can put both palms on Shion's face to kiss him. Fervently. Deeply. The wind rushes against his ears and he feels like he's echoing that passion, lips burning as he kisses. Against him, Shion tenses, relaxes, and tenses again. His hands, flailing, grow still. A draft nearly knocks them over, but Nezumi leans them against the door, his back heavily hitting the metal.

And then Shion is responding, his tongue pressing to Nezumi's in eagerness. He pulls closer until their nose squish and his hands fist in Nezumi's shirt. The taste of rainwater, wind, and Shion makes his head spin.

"That's my greeting kiss," he whispers against Shion's ear, when they pause to breathe. His lips are aflame, and not even a hurricane will quell them. "What do you say, Shion?"

Shion looks in between laughter and tears. "Welcome back, Nezumi."

Few people embrace him, and only Shion grips him like this with such fierceness and desperation. Nezumi responds in kind, nearly crushing with his hands, but the wind is harsher, making their actions almost gentle.

"I'll make you come with me," he hears himself say. "I'll show you why you should."

Shion's hands find his hair. "You can show me everything. I want you to."

Somewhere, people would be laughing for how dramatic this all is. They're kissing in a hurricane, for crying out loud, it doesn't get better than that.

Or maybe it did.

He's pushing his fingers into Shion's clothes, against bare skin and the ridges of bones and muscle. Loose clothing makes this so easy, as does the button-up shirt. He's proud of himself for pulling Shion's open in a few seconds, despite the dim lighting and the water streaming into his eyes. The red band circling his body comes to light, stark as ever. Shion shivers, and he slides his hand against it. He'll get to touch all of it, all of Shion—

" _Nezumi_."

He kisses again, swallowing his own name. "Shhh. Just listen."

Listen to the wind. Listen to their breathing, which seems louder than the storm. Listen. He wants Shion to hear himself when he unravels both of them, when they finally have gone numb from the cold and and struggle inside in a wet heap. The door he kicks shut, and Shion fumbles with his pants before they end up staggering towards the bed. They can barely see, but Nezumi can't be bothered with lighting another lantern.

"Wait," Shion finally says, his voice cracked and dry. No hurricane could ease that tone of voice. "We're wet."

"So?"

"The bed…"

"It'll be a mess anyway." He dismisses the concerns, more interesting in getting his own clothes off now and pushing them on the bed. "It's fine."

Shion makes sounds of protests until Nezumi reaches for him again, upon which he stops. It's really hard to complain when someone is going down on you, after all.

He doesn't do this often for people; it's a bit of a weird concept. People treated it like you had to pay for it, and if you did it, you probably had no standards. But how he sees it, is that it's a privilege. Something about using yourself to make someone come undone, shaking and holding on to you, and you had the best view of everything. He listens to the whimpers and hums, only pulling away from Shion when he feels thighs shaking.

"When was the last time you got special treatment," he asks as he slides upwards, hips slowly rolling against Shion's.

"Special? Only you're special." Shion pinches his arm as he blushes. "But I'm not inexperienced, Nezumi. I learned."

"Did you?"

"Yeah." Shion smiles, and Nezumi feels his body tense in the best way ever.

Flowers have thorns, and in Shion's case, he knows exactly what he's doing with his teeth and mouth. He alternates between

Sharp sucking and tongue flicks, staring from Nezumi's collarbone. It's…it's like poetry. There's a cadence and method, and Shion, straight-laced as ever, follows the rules.

Nezumi nearly wants to ask how much porn he's watched, but it'd ruin the mood. And besides, it's not _bad_. Shion's tongue swirls against his nipple and his toes curl. He's sure he'll have marks on his neck tomorrow, as well as scratches on his back. Thank goodness neither of them have long nails.

Purposefully, he slides his hand lower so that he can grip the both of them in a vice.

"N-not so tight," Shion gasps out, though the tremor in his shoulders says otherwise.

"Really?"

"Shut up, Nezumi." His eyes glitter in the low lighting. " _Move_."

"How demanding," he says, but he obeys, twisting hard so that they both gasp.

He likes all of this, all of Shion's body pressed to his. The shudders, the needy little puffs of air that he hears when he bites down on an ear. The eventual squirming when Shion pulls out a packet of condoms and lube; Nezumi laughs, and they decide by rock-paper-scissors how this is happening.

You couldn't put this in a book. And no reader, he decides, will understand how he has Shion at his mercy. He controls the pace, the sounds, and he's the cause of pleasurable distress. Shion is not a quiet partner, and Nezumi enjoys every bit of it.

When he finally is in and they're thrusting together, he keeps his arms wrapped around Shion's frame. Shion holds back, his hands clenched against Nezumi's back.

"I want to do this. Over and over again." Shion presses his lips to Nezumi's throat. "But with only you."

"Only me?"

"You're the only one for me."

He stops. "Shion, that was _terrible._ " An overused platitude right there that even amateurs stayed away from. "I taught you better."

A cheeky smile. "I'm out of practice?"

"No excuses." He shifts, drawing a hiss from both of them. "If you go with me, I'll make sure you never say stuff like that again."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I…Nezumi." Shion casts his gazes away. "Let's talk about this later."

"Mhm." No more distractions. He sharply twists, so that Shion ends up on top, straddling him. "Later."

It's a nice view like this, and Nezumi knows Shion thinks so too, at the way he's blushing from face, ears, and neck. The scar stands out on his skin, and he finds himself tracing it again.

"I think," Shion gulps air, shaking his head. "You're touching me too much. It's unfair."

"You're the first person to complain about _that_."

"Well, it's true!"

"Oh, please."

"I'm serious. I'll hold you down if you don't stop."

"Will you?" He traces a finger against Shion's thigh.

"I mean it." With surprisingly steady hands, Shion takes Nezumi's and pins them down at Nezumi's sides. "Like this."

It's not a particularly tight grip. They're sweating, and it'd be so easy to slip free. But there's something about this, about Shion riding him the way he wants things to go, while he pins Nezumi down. He arches off the bed, for the gratification of Shion shuddering and leaning forward against him.

" _Fuck_."

He agrees, and all attempts at conversation stop. They both know how this is ending, how it will feel. Sex is honestly quite simple.

It's the feelings that aren't. It's the emotions. He's had detached sex before, for the sake of scratching an itch. Sometimes it was on a whim. This time, it's actually heartfelt, and he's forgotten what it's like. Or maybe he's never experienced it. Now, he does, with the one person in the world that he cares about.

Shion's eyes pull him in; the walls are rattling as the hurricane moves above them, but it could all come crashing down and he wouldn't care. It's like the time he taught Shion to dance, only this time, they both were following the steps. They both were leading, following, listening—

His bones and muscles lock into place as he twists upwards to kiss Shion, and then they're collapsing, even as they peak and he's pretty sure he passes out for a millisecond in a flurry of sounds and scents and indulgence. Shion moans his name somehow in between the messy kissing, clinging to him.

Now he can count his promise fulfilled.

**.**

The hurricane sheds the last of its rain the next day, returning the power. The morning is punctuated by the radio and concerned voices; Shion makes his replies, his voice drowsy with sleep, Nezumi lying next to him.

He actually doesn't remember when they fell asleep. Maybe after the third round? Nothing like a few hours of sex to make six years feel like nothing. Snow is tucked against a corner the blanket, still asleep. So is the dog, at the foot of the bed, nose buried into its tail.

"Don't you have a phone?" he asks after Shion sets the radio aside for the umpteenth time.

"I did, but I forgot to bring it."

"Irresponsible."

"I had a lot on my mind."

"Such as?"

"You." Shion hooks his foot against Nezumi's. "What else?"

"Romantic words don't work on me."

"No, sarcasm works better."

Nezumi tweaks his nose. "You missed my intellect, admit it."

"I don't miss your smartmouth," Shion shoots this back, but he's leaning in for a kiss. "But I missed _you_."

"This mouth is a part of me."

"I like other parts of you better."

He couldn't resist. "Like my dick?"

Shion huffs and rolls away. "If I disliked it, yesterday wouldn't have happened."

"You've gotten better with your replies, I'll give you that."

"Thanks?"

"I mean it. You surprise me more often." Like when he opened his eyes in the hospital, and there had been no tears. No heartfelt confession then and there. No talk about the word 'love,' and he wonders actually if that has a place here.

"Like I said before, I practiced. I wanted to impress you." Shion turns back to him, running a hand through his hair. "Did it work?"

"If I had to compare you to everything else that I've experienced…" he lets the words linger. "Congratulations, you passed that test."

The smile he gets for this is almost blinding. If Shion is this happy over a casual compliment, how does he take the real ones? It's something Nezumi will have to try in the future.

Right now, there's something else. "Did you decide?"

"Not yet. I didn't really have a chance to think yesterday."

"Fair enough. When do you think you'll have an answer?"

There's a long pause as Shion searches the ceiling with his eyes.

"Tomorrow."

"Okay."

One day is nothing compared to the six years of separation. This is fair game, after all the time he made Shion wait for him.

**.**

Nezumi wakes up early; a slow blink of his eyes, the taste of his mouth after a night, and his heartrate pulsing in his ears. It's not even sunrise, but he's never been one for late mornings unless he had no sleep. He pulls his clothes on, opens a can of something and eats it in five minutes, feeds Snow and the dog, and goes outside.

No matter where the sun rises, it's always beautiful. Over desert, forest, cities…though over cities it could be improved. No.6 at least has less pollution then some of the places he's visited, and after a storm, it's like all the clouds were pushed back. He watches dark blue fade to red and pink, and then gold and blue. The sun pierces everything, gleaming at the edge of his sight. He enjoys this as much as the tumult of the hurricane yesterday.

When the sky is all blue, he returns inside. Shion's buttoning his shirt up, legs still bare. Nezumi sits down, the bedsprings popping.

"Good morning."

"Good morning," Shion replies. He smoothes his collar down, and looks for his pants.

"Thanks for keeping this place."

"It wasn't much trouble. I just had to keep people away from this place. I said it was for preservation."

"Are we part of history?"

"In a small way, I think so."

"No one even knows my name."

"I don't even know your name."

"Didn't you want to?"

"I did. A long time ago." Dressed, Shion moves closer, bending down to ruffle the dog's fur. On the topic of names, Nezumi never asked what the dog was called. "But I think I realised it didn't matter. Nezumi is the one I know. Another name would be a stranger's."

"If you say so." The last people to call him by his name had been his family. Maybe he buried it with them. "So…your answer?"

Shion sighs, and it's as if it drains his whole body so that he's hunched over. "I thought about asking my mother first. Then I thought about the people I'd to contact. There's also the people I work with, and the obligations for the rest of the year…"

It's going to be no, isn't it. Nezumi looks down at his hands, mentally prepared.

"There's a lot. But I think if I had a few days to say goodbye, it would be okay, right?"

He holds his breath. "Then…?"

"Yes." Shion reaches for Nezumi, and without think, he grabs the fingers that were there, linking them together. "I'll go."

Such a simple thing shouldn't make him this happy. But he is; his entire body feels light, and the longer he looks at Shion, the more he wants to smile. Yet he's good at playing cool, so he forces only one side of his mouth to tip upwards.

"It'll be nothing like you're used to," he says, slowly pulling away. "Cold, hard surfaces to sleep on, fighting off bandits, staying out of people's way, maybe even some thievery of your own."

"I can handle it, if you can."

"You might have to eat bugs."

Shion gapes at him. "Wait, really? _Bugs?_ "

He ignores that question. "Shion, are you sure?"

"I could stay here for my entire life, it's true." He shrugs a shoulder. "But then I feel like that's a one dimensional view of the world…there's more, and I see it in you. I want that…that vitality."

"You're hardly lifeless."

"But I could be more." Shion's voice drops lower. "I want to be someone you can keep close. Someone useful to you. When you showed up so sick…I don't ever want to see you like that."

Nezumi reads the mood; there's a lot to be said here, and he doesn't feel ready to unbox that, so he goes for a lighter answer. "The saviour of No.6, putting himself down? Amazing."

"No.6 and you are different things."

"Look, I asked you to come with me. So what does that mean? That I don't find you useless." He pats Shion on the cheek. "So say your goodbyes, packing your things, and we'll go. Bring Snow if you want. And…" he looks at the dog.

"Daisy."

He's actually flummoxed for real. "What?"

Shion lifts his shoulders and coughs. "One of my mother's long time customers named her…Inukashi didn't like it, but Shionn picked it up, so…she's Daisy."

 _I am not calling a dog that._ Biting his tongue, he gestures with his hand. "Anyway, they can come, too. I guarantee you'll be homesick at first, but wait until you see some of the sights." There was so much; the area with ten waterfalls, the one small village that lived almost entirely on trees, the vast stretches of open land…all of it. "And, if you want, I'll make sure you sleep well. Every night." He leans in closer as he says this, his words fluttering against the nape of Shion's neck.

"Tiring me out?"

"I know what you like. You showed me very clearly the past…oh, two days?"

"Shut up." Shion nudges him, eyes glittering with amusement. "Okay."

**.**

They actually do not leave until after two weeks. There was paperwork to be done, some other things to be cleared up, and Shion has to say too many farewells.

 _I swear if I have to hear one more person crying, I'm going to just leave by myself,_ he grumbles to himself while securing his pack. _Sentiment_.

"Shion, you done?" he calls out.

"I forgot to pack socks, I'm trying to find them!" Shion, in the adjacent room, is making a racket. He bumps something and there's a yelp of pain.

"Need some help?"

" _No_."

He goes anyway, just so he can watch. Shion's room is a mess, his bag half-full, and a small pile of gifts on his desk—all useless, of course.

"I think I should help," he says, crossing his arms.

"I said I'm fine. I'm just…excited." A pair of pants are jammed in, along with some sucks.

"If you forget something, you probably don't need it."

"But—"

"Medicines, water, flashlight, matches, batteries…" Nezumi counts on his fingers. "You have those already."

"I forgot my toothbrush."

Oh, heavens.

Eventually, Shion does have everything together, albeit in a lumpy backpack. He sits down on the floor, and looks up at Nezumi.

"Five more minutes in this room. Your mama wants to say goodbye."

"I know." Shion looks more nervous than he did when they went confront Eluriyas.

So Nezumi sits down as well, and they watch the clock hands drag slowly. Snow sniffs at their hands before creeping into a pocket. Outside, there is the sound of children playing tag. Daisy ( he still can't believe that's the dog's name) is in the kitchen, getting spoiled one last time.

"Nezumi," Shion says out loud, all of a sudden.

"Shion," he responds.

"Are you sure?"

"Are _you_ sure?" He gently taps Shion's chin, bringing their gazes together.

Shion is fidgeting again. "Yeah. But I'm nervous."

"Don't be."

"That's not very reassuring."

"Shion, I want you." It sounds so silly when the words are out of his mouth, but sometimes, he can be straightforward too. At bad as Shion.

The fidgeting stops. "Ne…zumi?"

"You heard me. I'm not going to repeat." Ugh, he wants to wash his mouth out. _I want you, I need you, I can't live without you…_ it's the worst script, the worlds rolling endlessly in a march of expressions and hackneyed phrases. "I…don't want anymore goodbye kisses."

At least that sounds good. And it's sincere, too. He hasn't pitched his voice or angled the words. With his thumb, he softly traces a circle against Shion's cheek. "So are we good?"

Shion makes a sound at first, before he sways against Nezumi in an apparent way. Their lips inevitably meet and he sinks into the kiss, his fingers slowly trailing down the side of Shion's neck.

"Are we good?" he repeats.

"Yes." Shion rubs at his face, and inhales. "Yes, Nezumi."

He'll never grow tired of how his name sounds when Shion says it.

They leave after fifteen minutes, and it only takes about half an hour before they're out of the city. More tears, more promises, and Nezumi is almost glad he has so few people in his life that he is attached to. Some habits died harder than others, after all.

"Hey, Nezumi."

"Yes?"

"Can you teach me how to use a knife? I don't think I'll be able to move as quick as you, but I'd like to learn."

Shion with a knife…it's better than Shion with a gun. He chases the memories away to pinch Shion on the cheek. "It'll require getting up earlier. Is that possible?"

"Anything is possible with you."

Snow rides on his shoulder, much like how Hamlet and Cravat did. Daisy trails behind them; he can hear her sniffing at plants.

"…And we'll work on your vocabulary while we're at it."

He didn't think he missed this, but he did. All of Shion, even his terrible candidness. And now, he doesn't have to miss it anymore. It's by his side. Someday, it'll go in his writings. But that won't be something that world is allowed to read. It'll be just for him, and Shion. Maybe he'll properly think about love, too.

He steals a glance at Shion, at the way the wind ruffles his hair, and the flush in his cheeks.

Him and him, that makes them.

It feels right. One journey ended, another begun.

**_.end._ **


End file.
